Low of Solipsism
by DarlingImpi
Summary: Solipsism sol•ip•sism /ˈsäləpˌsizəm/ noun: the view or theory that the self is all that can be known to exist.


**A/N: So..uh...Hi? I know, I know. What the hell is this. What am I even doing. What's going on in this head of mine.**

 **Plot bunnies, man.**

 **Anyways I've been binging death note fanfics all week so i decided that apparently i had to write one too, and what better way to kick off the new year than another piece of shitWONDERFUL ART.**

 **screw this, i like it. *ollies out***

 **ALSO ALSO the title is NOT misspelled just google it or something if you're curious i just thought it would be funny okay? *re-ollies out***

This wasn't the first time he'd had that dream. Not even remotely. He didn't know what was going on, but at this point he'd had to basically accept it. It wasn't as if he had much of a choice.

He was bored, that was always the first impression. Bored out of his mind, in an arid desert, dry and absolutely barren, so empty that Dean had wanted to get out of there badly. But no matter how much he had wanted, he couldn't. He was stuck.

It was usually the same, the desert, and the boredom.

But tonight –today? Was different. Something had changed.

Dean had always been strangely aware, for being in a dream. He'd known who he was (Winchester), what he was doing (nothing), he remembered things. It wasn't like normal dreams.

But this time was different. He was flying (how?), but he wasn't scared, thank God (or maybe not), and somehow he had a destination in mind…somewhat similar to the way birds could always find north with the natural magnets in their beaks.

Suck it, Sam! He _had_ paid attention in school (enough of the time, anyways…).

But that still didn't give him any real clue as to where he was, though. He could see the faint glow of a city some miles off, but that clearly was not his direction. He was flying above some residential area. He couldn't even use landmarks to point out where he was…he was too high up, and everything was too indistinct.

And when had it become light outside?

"You seem to like it." He felt his mouth moving, but it wasn't his voice that came out. And who was he talking to? Last he had seen, he'd been about a thousand feet in the air. But all of a sudden, he was inside a house, hunched over in a space that was clearly too small for him (so either he was bordering on eleven feet, straightened out, or he was in a strange little slightly-shrunken world).

When he looked around, though, he was in some barely-lit bedroom, standing over a teenager, who had floating characters that Dean couldn't for the life of him have read, as well as a string of numbers. Slowly, though, the characters morphed into Latin letters, reading Light Yagami. So was Dean in…Japan, maybe? He looked back down at Light.

The kid had fallen out of his chair, and was flailing out blindly for something to brace himself on so he could stand back up.

"Why're you so surprised to see me?" Dean said. In the privacy of his mind, over which he had full control (thankfully), he thought _I'd be surprised too if a creepy dude just teleported into my room._ "I'm Ryuk, the Shinigami who dropped that notebook."

Dean felt himself gesture at a dirty black notebook lying innocuously on the teen's desk. However, a chill ran down his spine, and he had the very bad feeling that maybe there was more to than notebook than immediately showed.

"The way you were acting just now, I can tell you know it isn't just _any_ old notebook…right?" His voice tilted up at the end, suddenly sounding completely unsure for all of his intimidating blustering just moments ago.

"A Shinigami?" The teen, who was somehow still sitting on the floor, looked shaken, before he began pulling himself up. "A death god…" He mused.

And suddenly Dean was faced with an incredibly composed boy who looked far too much like the demons he hunted for him to really be comfortable.

"I'm not surprised to see you, Ryuk…" The kid said. "In fact…I've been waiting for you."

Dean snorted. "Well, that's a load of bullshit." He was surprised when it was actually said out loud, via whatever entity he was viewsharing with. It still wasn't his voice, but if he could gain autonomy in whatever tripped-up place this was, he would feel even the slightest bit better.

The kid looked taken aback, before he composed himself again. "It's a powerful notebook. It controls people's deaths through supernatural means. So how could you, a Shinigami, _not_ exist?"

Dean rolled his eyes, almost hoping the Shinigami would, too, but…no dice. He couldn't do anything but watch, again.

"And, gee, a personal visit from a Shinigami….very kind of you." Gee? _Gee?_ What the hell? What kind of a kid was this? Did he fall out of one of those crappy movies that Dean had watched hundreds of, growing up? "Seeing things with my own eyes like this lets me act with greater certainty." And now he was playing the cheesy villain.

Act…What the hell was this kid up to? Dean almost wanted the dreams where he was in the desert again, because this, _this_ was a whole 'nother level of crazy that he didn't really want to get into, not with everything else going on when he was _awake._

"Plus, there're some things I wanted to ask you." Light carried on. He picked up the notebook and opened it randomly to a page, and thrust it up at Dean's face like a proud little six-year-old with macaroni art that he made in daycare.

But when Dean saw what Light was showing off, he felt sick to his stomach. The pages were absolutely _covered_ in letters, some he could read, some he couldn't. But one thing was clear to him. They were all spelling out names, names that looked like they came from all over the world.

Dean was able to pick out a few in the short moment he had a chance to read them— William Elasfi, Orlie Krank, Coisan Lookes— and he committed them into memory. They all sounded absolutely ridiculous ( _Coisan?_ ) but he sensed there was something important about them.

"Hee hee." Dean felt the Shinigami actually _giggle,_ as he took the book from Light. Dean saw talons, black claws that looked wicked sharp, and he wondered when he was going to stop being surprised at any of this _._ "Wow, this is amazing. Gotta say, _I'm_ the one who's surprised. I've heard of death notes getting down into the human world a few times before… But no one's ever done this many in just five days." He waited a moment, then continued. "Most people would be too scared." Was that a mocking tone?

And then Dean thought, _Five days? This was only five days' worth of work?_

Light sat on his bed, and the Dean kept holding the notebook.

"I'm ready for anything, Ryuk…I used the notebook, knowing it belonged to a Shinigami…and now the Shinigami's here…" Light almost sounded resigned, and Dean wondered if the amount of names on the notebook was Light's actual pace, or if this was the five day's work of a person who thought he was going to die.

Dean wondered what all the names were for…but hadn't the Shinigami said it was called a death note? In that case…a notebook of death. It made a horrible, awful kind of sense. All those names that were written down…they had probably all belonged to people who had died. Died because their names had been written in the notebook.

Dean knew that this would maybe be considered a large leap, maybe a little too large, but he didn't have a lot to work off of, here, and something in his gut was telling him that he was on the right track after all.

Great. The kid was serial killer, and Dean couldn't do anything, because he was dreaming.

Why was Dean dreaming about serial killers.

"What happens to me now? You take my soul or something?"

"Nah, that's what demons are for." Dean spoke without thinking, and was surprised when, yet again, he was actually able to speak. Was this some kind of weird stipulation, "You can only speak in dreams when it's not entirely intentional"? Because if that was the case…Light could end up learning some really weird shit.

Light looked up, startled, and Dean wondered what he was shocked about. It's not like the kid had had any previous interaction with demons…had he?

"Besides, you really think I'd take your soul with 1) no warnings, or explanations, or whatever the hell and B) only five days of 'fun?'" He made air quotes with the creepy death god talons. "Come on, man. Even demons don't do that, and they're goddamn bastards."

And then the Shinigami took over. "The moment a death note lands in the human world, it belongs to the human world. It's yours."

Light's eyes glazed over, and Dean was fairly sure something terrible had just happened. But the moment passed, and the teen's eyes landed on the black book that he was still holding.

"You don't want it, give it to another human. When you do, though, I'll have to erase all your death-note-memories."

Suddenly, Dean was jumping out the window, landing across the street on a telephone pole. Below him, several pedestrians were milling about.

"Oh, and…" He called out, his voice significantly louder. He was still looking down, at the people on the street, but nobody looked up and noticed him. Were they all deaf? Were they just particularly ignorant?

"Since you've used what was _my_ notebook, you're the only one that can see me. Nobody else can hear me either, of course."

Oh. Now Dean felt stupid. Had he just waited moments longer…

"The death note is the bond between Light, the human, and Ryuk, the Shinigami."

Suddenly he was launching himself back across the street, landing in Light's windowsill.

"So there really is no price to pay for using the death note?" Light asked.

Dean could see the gears turning in his head, and he wondered what exactly, the teen was planning.

"Well, not exactly." He said. "But there is the terror and torment that only humans who've used it will experience…and, when you die….I'll be the one writing your name down, but…don't think that any human who's used it can go to heaven or hell."

 _That's right._ Dean thought sourly. _Because monsters go to purgatory._

"That's all."

Light started laughing nervously, and only then did Dean realized that hunched though he was, he was still towering over the boy in a threatening way.

"Okay, one more question." Light demanded, suddenly standing straight, as if that would make his earlier weakness go away.

" _Why did you choose me?_ "

Dean woke up in his bed before he could hear an answer.

He was panting like he'd just run a race, and only then did he realize the weight of what he'd just seen. If that wasn't a dream…

He picked up his phone and opened the web browser, intending to look into those names that he'd memorized.

William Elasfi.

The first link he saw was a news site. He opened it, not entirely optimistic, seeing as the person had apparently been real in the first place.

 _William Elasfi, criminal convicted of child rape and serial murder, was found dead in his apartment last Friday. He had been waiting to go to trials, for which he most likely would have received a life sentence, if not death, but had died mysteriously under unknown circumstances—_

Dean clicked the power button on his phone, not daring to read anymore. It was…it was probably just a coincidence.

He took a moment to collect himself, breathing in and out slowly.

Eventually, he turned his phone back on and exited the news site, not entirely sure why he was persisting but still trying to look into the other two names.

Orlie Krank. Coisan Lookes.

Both of them were already in jail, having each receive life sentences for several heinous crimes that made a Wendigo look sweet.

Dean felt like he was going to throw up. Those three names…they were all he had been able to memorize, but it was enough.

 _Two's a coincidence, three's a pattern._

What did that make hundreds? Because those three names were real...and Light didn't seem the type to make mistakes. He must have carefully looked into all of those names, and…

It was a dream. Dean had been _asleep_.

He must have seen those names somewhere else, and his subconscious must have used them in whatever hallucinatory trip he had gone on to… _what?_

Dean was very confused and just a little bit upset, and for no reason whatsoever he began to Google "Light Yagami."

 _Top student in all of Japan…_

 ** _Fuck._**

 **A/N: Hey. I guess I'm feeling a little sappy right now (this note was written at 2:03 in the morning) but I just wanted to thank whoever you are, that's reading it. If you're here at crap the shit 0'clock in the morning/night as it's immediately coming out, thank you. If you're here weeks after I've updated (because let's be honest here the gaps can get kinda long), thank you. If you're here and you're reading it and thinking to yourself 'what the shit is this crap I really ought to be doing something better with my time,' I still want to thank you. Because you're here.  
Because you are a good goddamn person.  
And in case you're actually a mastermind Loki in disguise, okay so maybe you're not all that good but you're still awesome.  
Every single goddamn human is awesome.  
I love all y'all.  
So thanks.  
And here's to 2018!**


End file.
